CS Drabble
by ThePirateSwan
Summary: A collection of Captain Swan drabbles. Some are prompts, others are just random stuff that wouldn't get out of my head. Rating may change depending on if any heavy stuff get's added.
1. Can You Hear Them?

**A short drabble based on the sneak peak for "Lost Girl." Written from Killian's point of view.**

Can You Hear Them?

Hook shifted on the ground, the woolen blanket pulled up around his shoulders as he tried to ignore them. It was the crying, the sorrow of the lost children on the island. He'd been listening for what seemed like days, tossing and turning in vain attempt to get some sleep. He would be needing his strength to help find the boy.

Out of the corner of his eye he caught movement and stilled. The figure got up, unsheathing a sword. Emma. He watched quietly as she spun around, as though looking for something. She stepped towards the direction of her parents.

"Guys!" She whispered harshly. "Guys wake up!"

They did not respond, though Snow White snuggled closer into her prince's arms, his muscles flexing as he unconsciously held her tighter. Hook looked back to where Emma had been standing, but she was gone. Quickly and quietly, he shot to his feet, slinking along the edges of the jungle to where her things lay. There wasn't much, just a dusty old bit of tent to keep her from the dirt and a blanket much like his to cover her. Her pack lay untouched at one end, serving as a makeshift pillow.

The cries of the children grew louder and Hook cringed. He hated the sound, could hardly stomach it. It was one of the things he'd tried to escape from in this land. It was a reminder, after all, of his own history, his own abandonment.

"Where's Henry."

Hook's head snapped in the direction her voice had come from, a little ways into the trees. Drawing his own sword he crept closer, taking care to keep silent. A few feet away, through the thick viridian leaves, he could make out her form, blade holding her target in place against a tree.

"You've got fire! I like fire." And his blood froze in his veins. That was the voice of Pan; he'd know it anywhere.

Emma seemed unafraid though since she merely pushed Pan further against the rough bark. Her voice dropped dangerously and for that moment Hook wasn't sure if he was more concerned for her safety, or her actions.

"Where's my son?"

"He's alive, if that's what you're worried about."

"Where the hell'd you take him?"

"He's a very special boy, Emma."

"I know. That doesn't answer my question. What do _you_ want with him?"

He could picture her face, eyes sharp and dangerous as they looked into Pan's, unaware of the peril she herself was in. He wanted to rush out and stab the heathen, but he knew the boy was faster and they'd both be dead before they hit the ground. Hook ground his teeth, jaw clenching and hand flexing around the hilt of his sword.

"I came here to see who I was up against," replied Pan, "the _Savior. _Gotta say, I'm not disappointed."

He knew the smug grin that would be playing on the boy's lips, knew the glee he found in a worthy opponent. And he knew, from the tone of his voice, that he was not after Henry. It was Emma. He wanted Emma.

"What do you say now? Gonna tell me how I'm not gonna see Henry again?" She sounded almost bored with him, as though she'd heard the threat before and had proven it wrong.

"No. I'm going to help you _find_ him," he seemed almost offended at the statement. "I'll give you a map."

Hook saw Emma step away after a moment, giving Pan room to move again. He knew these tricks, knew Pan would prefer Emma's fight before her failure. He wouldn't hurt her, not now. So Hook walked away, back to their clearing. For a moment he'd forgotten about the cries of the lost children, but with every step he took away from her, the louder they became again. He wondered, briefly, if she had heard them too, if that was what had woken her. A lost girl. Quite a pair they'd make, the abandoned ones. He smiled humorlessly, casting an unfriendly look towards her sleeping parents. He'd never understand it.

Then again, they couldn't hear the cries.


	2. All Hollow's Eve

**Prompt: Killian's first Halloween.**

All Hollows Eve

Emma knelt by her son's side, helping him to secure the Iron Man armor around his waist, which was proving to be a bit difficult with his level of excitement. They were still in Mary Margaret's apartment, trying on the kid's costume to make sure it fit. It was the day before Halloween and somehow Emma wasn't surprised it was her son's favorite holiday. They'd spent the majority of the last week decorating the apartment and hall just outside the door, going so far as to have several dried leaf and crumbling flower wreaths hung on the wall in each room. Killian, of course, had just looked at them all as though they'd lost their minds.

"Why are we littering your home with these infernal decorations?" he'd asked her and she'd rolled her eyes.

"It's a _holiday_ Killian. Don't you have those where you're from?"

His lips had curled back in distaste as the foliage in his arms nearly poked his eye and he shifted them again, managing to scrape Emma instead.

"None that require so much... _excess_."

And that had been before they'd gotten to the pumpkin carving. Although, admittedly, he had enjoyed that particular tradition, using his hook to sculpt images and faces into the orange meat.

"So, love, what exactly is this holiday celebrating?" he asked once she'd adjusted Henry's armor to her satisfaction and stood back to admire the look, smiling at her son as he grinned up at her and quickly ran into the other room to look himself over in the mirror.

"It's supposed to be a kind of commemoration of the stuff that goes bump in the night. People say that the dead walk the earth on Halloween. They used to believe it. So they would dress up as monsters and witches and ghosts to scare off the angry spirits. I think it used to be called All Hollows Eve actually. Anyways, now people just put on stupid costumes and ask for candy." She glanced at him and her felt as though her heart had stopped.

The look on his face was saturated in grief. His eyes had darkened into pits, jaw set in a tense angle and she regretted her explanation immediately. He must have been thinking of Milah. She couldn't blame him for it, especially when she found herself thinking about Graham.

"There is no magic that can bring back the dead, Swan." Killian's voice had gone low, nearly a growl and for a moment, there peeked out Hook again, all rage and anguish for his lost love. But Emma knew him by now, so she just slipped her hand around his and squeezed reassuringly.

"No. There isn't."

His eyes met hers then, softening a bit. He laced his fingers through hers and brought their joined hands up to his mouth, lips brushing in a whisper soft kiss over the skin of her knuckles. Emma felt the now familiar warmth begin to travel up her spine at the gesture. She wasn't sure she'd _ever_ get used to this man.

"Thank you, Emma," he breathed out.

**Review?**


	3. All My Life

**So, this is gonna hurt. Fair warning. Based off a post on tumblr that literally made me ball my eyes out.**

All My Life

They'd found Henry.

They'd found him and he'd run straight past her into his mother's arms. Regina's arms. Emma stood stock still, the aching she'd been feeling whenever she and Regina had talked about him growing more intense, threatening to overtake her.

She was drowning.

He'd quickly come back to her, hugged her tight saying, "I knew you'd find me mom!" Her arms wrapped around his small frame shakily. He was the only thing that grounded her at that moment, the only thing that mattered in the whole world.

But he wasn't hers. Not really.

The trip back had been eventful. Turned out Regina had a soul mate, one that still lived. They'd found each other. And Emma watched on, the pain swelling again. He had a son of his own, Roland. Sweet thing. Henry was ecstatic. He'd always wanted siblings, Regina had told her, and Emma had to hide the hurt in her expression.

She didn't know that.

Everything seemed to happen so quickly, Robin moving in with Regina, after some rather angst-filled weeks of coming to terms with their feelings and their fate, Henry wanting to go over more and more, Roland holding his surrogate mother's skirts as she went about her work, smiling down at him with such warmth.

_I could have had that._

And one night, suddenly, she couldn't take it anymore. So she got in her yellow bug and drove. She didn't intend on leaving permanently, no. She just needed some time to herself, away from Storybrooke. Away from Regina and Henry and _Neal. _God Neal. He'd shown up in Neverland, ragged and pissed. He'd come to save his son. Of course, not long after he arrived they'd found him.

He hadn't run to him either.

And coming back to Storybrooke, he'd tried to rekindle what he'd had with Emma. She tried, for Henry's sake. She really did. But the ache kept her from him, flared up whenever he showed her some kind of affection, a fire threatening to swallow her whole.

_Doesn't matter, _she'd thought. _I can't do it anyway._ And so she drove.

She got a few miles out of the town border before she stopped. She couldn't anymore. She just _couldn't._ Her knuckles whitened against the steering wheel, her features crushing inwards, giving into the feelings.

Everything.

She'd lost everything.

The tears were like pins in her eyes, slipping down her pale cheeks and plopping onto her worn jeans. They wouldn't stop. They couldn't. And so she broke.

She screamed and screamed, hitting the dashboard, the wheel, slamming back against the seat, heels of her hands digging into her eyes in a furtive attempt to stop the tears. And then that solitary thought, the most breaking one, slipping in through the shouting and the cursing in her mind and whispered in her ear.

She'd never had anything to begin with.

It was a wonder she didn't break anything, with all the violence it brought out in her, a wonder no one in town hear her, even from this distance. And all of a sudden, she was just _so_ tired. Her hands stayed loosely wrapped around the steering, her forehead pressing against them, eyes closed as more of her soul slipped away along her skin.

She would never forgive Neal. Not for this. He'd taken her only chance away from her, her _child._ And Regina got it all. Her family, her happiness, her _life_. And she couldn't even muster up the energy to hate her for it. Not anymore.

And suddenly there was a knocking on her windshield and she was shooting straight up, swiping at her eyes frantically and looking into the dark outside.

Hook. _No, Killian._

She didn't want to be seen like this, weak and broken, especially not by him. He saw through her too much as it was, she couldn't afford to let him in. So she glared at him through the glass, the power behind it a fizzing pathetic thing.

And he just opened the door and pulled her out by her arm. She tripped, falling into him, his arms coming up around her. His good hand came up to pet her hair back, his cheek against her cheek, his body a warm barrier against the chill in the air.

"It's alright Swan," he murmured into her hair. "It's alright."

And she couldn't keep up the brave face anymore, grasping at him like a lifeline as she shuddered and sobbed into his shoulder, his leather jacket a cool contrast to his heat. He just pulled her closer and she tried to explain, tried to let him in because, at this moment, she couldn't do it alone. She needed him.

All that came out were broken sentences about family, about loneliness and he continued to pet her, to rub her back reassuringly, to whisper assurances in her ears.

They stayed like that for a long time. She didn't remember when they went back. She didn't even remember driving. He'd walked after her when she'd left. But somehow they ended up back on his ship; the _Roger_'s sway a coaxing lullaby as they lay down in his bed. He'd stripped himself of his boots and shirt, helped her with her shoes and jacket and simply held her through the night.

She wasn't even aware of what she was saying to him anymore, didn't recognize the sounds as words. And as she drifted off to sleep, she caught one thing, one quiet promise he spoke into her hair.

"I'll give it to you Emma, love. Anything you want. Forever."

**Review?**


	4. All My Life - Morning After

**People were asking for a continuation and all I could really think of was this little morning after scene from Emma's POV. It's super short.**

She wakes up to his arms around her waist, his breath a soft caress on her skin. She shifts, mindful of his form, sitting up and staring down at him. His face is more relaxed than she's ever seen it, so smooth and young and carefree and she has the urge to kiss him awake but she doesn't. She can't.

He could break her apart, more than anyone else. He could leave her in a pile of cracked pieces, never able to fit together again, all scattered and misplaced and no longer whole. He frightens her. And it's not because of his darkness or his anger or any of that, but rather his hold over her, his power. She shivers at the thought and his arms tighten in his sleep, pull her closer against him, his head resting on her side as he breathes in her scent. The corners of his mouth tug up a bit and she can't help but smile.

He could break her. But he could also mend her.


	5. Untitled 01

**Prompt: Emma and Henry use Killian like a human pillow.**

Untitled Drabble

Killian Jones had never been more nervous in his life as he walked up to Emma's apartment, old wooden stairs creaking with each step. She was his, finally, and he was hers. After all the pain and all the trials, he'd have thought that spending time with her boy would be easy, effortless.

He hadn't realized how utterly wrong he was until he looked up at the brick building.

And every second closer to reaching her door only spiked his anxiety, his hand kneading the dull hook he still wore, even with the modern clothes Emma had helped to pick out for him. It was simply really, a navy cotton shirt, black vest, dark wash jeans. The brace on his arm was visible to the world, the straps snaking up his lean muscles and he remembered when she'd kissed her way up it, reassured him it was fine, it was _part_ of him.

She'd said she wanted it all.

The peeling white paint was mocking him, he was sure of it. Pushing down his nerves, he brought up his good hand to knock. Of course, before he got a chance to connect fist with wood it had already swung open, leaving him standing there with a raised arm staring at the boy in the threshold like an idiot.

"Hey, you're here! I was just gonna check and see. Cool!" Henry grinned up at him and Killian felt himself smile softly at the lad. He could see the excitement bubbling beneath the surface, the eagerness to get to know him.

"Hello there, lad. May I come in then?"

The kid stepped back, swinging the hinges back with him as Killian stepped through, eyes immediately searching for his Swan girl.

"Where's your mum?" he asked as Henry closed the door and skipped past him to the kitchen counter, a hot mug of cocoa sitting there in anticipation.

"Upstairs. She's almost ready I think." He shrugged, as though he were already used to this, even though he'd only known his mother for a year.

"Henry, did you get the movies out?"

Killian turned at the voice, heart skipping like a lovesick teenager at the sight of her. Her golden hair was pulled back into a loose bun, tendrils spilling out here and there like a halo. She smiled at him and gave him a quick kiss, fingers threading through his as she led him to the living room couch. Henry followed with his cocoa, settling between the two.

He wasn't honestly sure if he should move or not. The film they'd been watching was nearing it's end, but somewhere along the way Henry had fallen asleep in Killian's lap, snuggling closely into his leg, small hands curled next to his face as though he were about to start suckling his thumb. He'd felt his heart warm at the sight, looked at Emma with an expression of pure happiness. She'd smiled softly back at him, fingers brushing away the hair on her son's head affectionately. She had leaned in, pecked him on the lips lightly and settling into the crook of his arm, head resting at the junction of his neck and shoulder.

It appeared now that she'd fallen asleep along the way as well. He hadn't noticed, eyelids feeling heavy as their combined heat lulled him into relaxation. He decided to give into it in the end, as credit rolled up the screen. Tilting his head slightly, he rested his cheek in her perfumed hair, good hand in his lap near the boy, hooked arm around his love.

Killian Jones had never felt so content in his long, long, life.


	6. Unworthy

**Prompt: Killian lets it slip that he thinks he doesn't deserve Emma and she is stunned and decides to give him a piece of her mind.**

He'd been ignoring her for days, ever since they'd gotten back from Neverland, and Emma Swan was done with it. It'd been tense when they'd found Neal after that kiss, worse still after rescuing Henry. Her son had wanted them to be a family, wanted his parents together and Emma, in an attempt to do everything to make him happy, make everything right, had stayed with Neal, tried to work it out.

It was two weeks after their return, when things had calmed down considerably, that she'd realized how wrong that decision had been. They'd done nothing but argue over everything and she felt her heart aching with the knowledge that Henry was stuck in the middle. She could picture him in his room as they shot back jabs in the kitchen, curled under his blankets to keep the noise out. So last night, when he'd gotten home and Henry was at Regina's, she told him it wasn't working. He hadn't reacted how she'd thought, simply nodded quietly and packed his things. By the morning he was out and checked into Granny's until he found his own place.

The entire day she'd spent reevaluating her choices, trying to figure out what would make her happy, what _could_ make her happy. Around every turn came his face, his smirk, eyes sparked with amusement and she felt herself burn. She hated it, hated the withdrawn look to him these days, knowing it was _her _fault. So with a huff of frustration, she'd gathered up her keys and coat and driven out to the mostly empty docks where his ship was anchored. Locking the doors to her bug, Emma zipped up her coat, furred hood coming up over her head, stuck her hands in her pockets and marched determinedly down the pier.

She had to talk to him, had to explain herself, but how? A sudden anxiety took over her, slithering up her spine to settle at the base of her skull. What if he didn't want her? What if she was too late? No. She couldn't let that thought get to her. She had to try, had to fight for him.

Her boots echoed painfully in the quiet twilight, snow falling softly around her. She'd reached the gangplank to his ship, hesitated. What if he kicked her out before she even had a chance to get a word in?

She stepped up, strolling across the deck straight to the captain's quarters. She didn't even bother to knock, just pushed open the door and closing it quickly behind her. He was leaning back in his chair, feet propped upon his desk with a flask in his hand. His heavy leather coat was hanging by his bed on the wall, the shirt he worse beneath it loosened to reveal the smattering of dark curls that Emma would bet trailed down beneath his trousers. Her breath caught.

Killian Jones simply raised one dark eyebrow at her, shifting to let his feet down and gracefully getting up to walk towards her. He held out his arms and gave a small mocking bow.

"To what do I owe the honor, my lady?"

She could still see the dark resolve in his eyes, could hear it in his voice. He was still hurt, still walled up. She took a measured step closer.

"I wanted to talk. About us."

"And what, pray tell, is there to say, Swan?"

"I made a mistake."

The cockiness in him immediately vanished at that and he stiffened. There was a careful mask set in place, one designed to keep her from reading him.

"Go back to your boy Emma."

"Killian…"

His electric blue eyes flashed and suddenly he was right in her face.

"You have nothing to say to me. You've made your choice. I fought for you and you chose him. Now leave, Swan. Go back to your _happy_ family."

She wouldn't back down, not now. So she stood up a little taller and stared back at him, jaw set.

"I made the wrong choice. I wanted to do what was best for my _son_, and it turns out that wasn't it. So I want to do what's best for _me. _And that's you, Killian." God that sounded stupid. She should have practiced before coming here.

Killian just looked at her, pain and regret flitting across his features so fast she might have missed it if she weren't so tuned into his every move. He turned away, heading back to his desk. He dropped the flask on the hard wood, fingers going to grip the back of the chair. His knuckles were turning white.

"No. I'm not. I'm a _pirate_, as has been made glaringly clear."

She froze. _What?_ She felt the anger well up inside her at his words.

"Are you fucking _kidding me?_ You're, what, not _good enough?_" She went straight to him, hand tugging on his shoulder sharply to make him face her again. His expression was pained and she wanted to slap it off, to make him understand. "You don't get to say that. You don't get to _decide_. Don't you _dare_ tell me that you think you're not good enough! You have been the only person there for me! You _never_ left me behind, even when I pushed and pushed and pushed! You believed in me, listened to me, _trusted me_, and you're gonna stand there and tell me _you're_ not good enough? Let me tell you something, _Hook,_ I'm the one that's fucked up. _I'm_ the one who's not worth it. I made the bad decision; I kept you out. I was scared of how _real _you were! So don't tell me you're just a _pirate_. You've proven to _me_, more than anyone else, that you are so much more!"

He just stared at her as she caught her breath, cheeks enflamed from her speech. Slowly he brought his hand up to her face, thumb brushing over her skin. He didn't look closed off anymore.

If anything, he looked _in awe._

**Review?**


	7. 3 Sentence Prompts

**Okay so this is just a bunch of 3 sentence drabbles from tumblr. Since they're so short, I'm just gonna post them all in one "chapter."**

captain swan, stuck in emma's car because of heavy snowfall :)) x

from: shine-free

**Prompt #1 **

Okay so a tiny bit more than three sentences. But that's okay. :)

She kept trying to drive through it, foot falling hard on the gas pedal in frustration because, damn it, she refused to get stuck out here with him, no matter _how _much snow was surrounding them!  
He groaned loudly next to her and Emma nearly jumped out of her skin, eyes flashing up to his as he have her an exasperated look, like even he was growing tired of her futile attempts to get them even _marginally_ closer to town.  
"Swan," Killian sighed, leaning further back into his sea, "just calm down. We're not going anywhere until those infernal machines of yours come to clear the road, so you might as well settle in."  
She just glared at him.

cpatain swan painting thiers or the charmings home

from: youreapunk

**Prompt #2**

Killian Jones blinked in confusion a couple of times at a _very_ happy Emma Swan, fingers slowly moving up to touch the side of his face and coming away with the sticky yellow paint she'd only moments ago cal my swiped at him with.

Her eyes were bright with barely restrained amusement and, _oh that just would not do,_ he smirked, lunging at her with his brush as she squealed in surprise, turning to get away, but he was too fast.

His stumped arm caught her around her waist, his head ducking to trail hot open-mouthed kisses up her neck as he dragged his dripping brush up her side, infinitely pleased with the playful noise of disgust she let out as she wriggled in his embrace.

i found the ocean in your eyes- killian x emma

from: anonymous

**Prompt #3**

Again…. A sentence longer than promised but I couldn't help it heheh :)

She was breathtaking really; his own personal siren with long gold-spun hair and eyes like the sea, spirit fierce as Calypso herself.

Emma, elegant as a swan and stubborn as a mule, but he couldn't help himself, watched as she moved through the kitchen, his heart beating so loud he was amazed she couldn't hear it, couldn't sense his awe of her in every interaction.

She'd worried he'd have trouble assimilating to life on land, asked him if he was sure he wanted this but Killian had just kissed her quiet, resolute in the feeling that he didn't need the Joger anymore.

He'd found the ocean in her eyes.

emma tends to his wound/ shirtless killian x emma

from: anonymous

**Prompt #7**

She had to hold her breath for fear of what she might say as he carefully pulled off his shirt, muscles tensing and relaxing as he maneuvered himself so that she could see the long cut that stretched from his left shoulder nearly to his right nipple.

The blood had slowed considerably since he'd kept pressure on it and he'd asked her to sew him up; of course she didn't like the idea one bit since she was no nurse and that wound looked pretty serious but what else were they gonna do on such short notice?

Her gaze travelled up across his abs to his chest, suppressed the urge to run her fingers through the light dusting of dark curls there and focus instead on pushing needle through flesh, close him up so he could fight again, could help her save her son.

**Prompts 4-6 were Outlaw Queen and they can be viewed in the OQ Drabbles fic, if you're interested. :) **

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